Field Trip!

Feeling adventurous today? Eeeeexcellent.
Head over to She Got Married where my first-ever "guest post" is hangin' out! My girl Emma, one of my favorite blargy amigas, sent me a (self-proclaimed) "nosy" interview-- so you can read about all kinds of snoopy things like:

What do you argue about the most?
What is the one thing about married life that took some adjusting or getting used to?
Where is your favorite date to go on together?

It was SO fun, because you guys know I love spewing dishing out the TMI.
(& if you're interested in some fun vegetarian recipes & grocery budgeting tips, have a look around her blog! Since following her, she's inspired me cut my grocery costs by almost 40%! Shweet.)

Our Story, Part I: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Public Spit-Swapping

[I promise we're not naked...?]

Eight years ago exactly, a 17-year old, curly-haired boy called a lanky, 16-year old girl, and asked if she wanted to go read in the park.

"That's ALL I want to do. The fifth Harry Potter is coming out in two weeks and I'm re-reading the series to prep for it... I forgot how amazing the Goblet of Fire is."

"Good idea! I'll bring my copy, too. "

Putting her hair in a ponytail in front of the bathroom mirror, she glared at her reflection and thought, "No boyfriends this summer. No boyfriends this summer. But he's really, really nice. No boyfriends this summer. But he has curly hair. No boyfriends this summer. But it felt so good to hug him the other day..."

She smiled. She caught herself smiling and punched the countertop. "NO BOYFRIENDS THIS SUMMER."

He'd brought a blanket, and they laid it out on a grassy hill at the park. They started reading their matching green books. Then, against the girl's claims that she couldn't stop reading it-- they started talking. Their faces got closer. No boyfriends this su.... dude's got some crazy-long eyelashes oh my gawsh he's gonna kiss me he's gonna kissmerightnow
He kissed her. It felt perfect. She kissed him back. A lot.

They were that sleazy couple making out in the park. She didn't care.
She'd never kissed anybody before officially "going out with them" before. That was okay too. In fact, it was pretty darn thrilling.
She was not a very good kisser. He didn't care. (Well, he thought it was pretty funny, but he didn't say anything.)

"So are we... 'together' now?" he asked, forehead against hers.
"I'd say so," she grinned.

Two years later, Jason admitted that I was a dorky kisser on that first "date." Eight years later, he's still a better kisser than I am. But I'd like to say that I've come a long way. (Considering that I'm 24, I've been practicing on him for a third of my life. How's THAT for some matth-ews-ing, eh?)

So that's Part 1 of our little "Love Story," amigos, and now I'm off to a romantical dinner to celebrate our eighth date-a-versary. I PROMISE that this will be the only one written in cheesarific third-person.

(Happy June 10th, Handsome Hubster. You make me excited to wake up every day.)

I should abandon my blog more often

I was such a grown-up this week! I ingested craploads of caffeine, averaged 5 hours of sleep a night, and MADE $#!& HAPPEN.


Exhibit A:                                                                                                                                                  

I revamped my professional portfolio! Want to see what Mrs. Matthews-er does for a living?*
*(by "for a living," I mean "is desperately seeking employment.")

clickety-click-click!

I managed to reel in my squirrel-with-ADHD personality for the most part, but by the time I made the "Get in Touch" page, my squirrely side had started to leak out. Oh, well.


Exhibit B:                                                                                                                                                  

To hold me over in the meantime, I got a job as a lifeguard/swim instructor, and signed up to volunteer at an animal shelter! I am SO on my way to becoming a functioning member of society.

Fun fact: Apparently lifeguards get fired if we wear our uniform off-duty, in public. But the internet doesn't count as public... right?

***

On another note: I saw one of my old Architecture School professors the other day, and confessed that I didn't have a job yet, but couldn't search outside of town because the Hubster is still in school here. Her advice?  Move out of town and leave him here if I was serious about a career in architecture.

Sorry, Prof, I'm way too whipped for that. I guess I'll just continue to harrass the small handful of firms here in town.

And as for all of YOU, amigos, please instruct all your rich relatives to commission lots of new construction projects here in Eugene, Oregon. Much appreciated.

This is what happens to your face when you try to race the Hubster

One of those little things I somehow forgot to blog about:

Jason ran a half marathon last month (13.1 miles).  The dude hardly trained for it, and still managed to crank it out in just over 7 minutes per mile.

What?!!

But the best part? These photos of him & another guy duking it out on the home stretch:

Jason got passed! *cue look of intense determination

Jason passed him back! *cue victorious grin & stride like a RAPTOR GOING IN FOR THE KILL

Am I mean for laughing really, really hard at both of them?
...especially considering I haven't run more than a mile in about a month...?

Phone personality test

Do you ever wonder how people would judge you if they went through your phone photos? For instance, what kind of person do you think would snap pictures of:

Creepy figurines?

My favorite part is that they capitalized "Special."

Friendly pink balloons?

A very mysterious mystery girl, who appears to be so hungry that she wants to lick her dino tattoo and then eat the phone?

A dirty Easter card?!

Wait... is that a pile of...... CPR PRACTICE BABIES?

 
And then this handsome fella who appears quite concerned about the whole situation?

Yeah, I have no idea who would want to document all those 'special moments' either. Noooo idea.
(Care to share yours?)

Really terrible reasons to start a family

I'm watching my friends, one-by-one, succumb to baby fever. It's like a real-life version of the twitterpation scene from Bambi.

I keep expecting it to hit, but I've got nothing. I love kids, but babies? I don't get it.

So far, the only reasons I've even thought about starting a family have been... shallow. Very shallow. Such as:

We first liked the names "Emma," "Sophia," and "Will." But we all know what happened with those names. So a year ago we picked new ones (because how else do you pass long car rides?).

Sure enough, the new picks have started slowly creeping up the "most popular names" list. I keep having mini panic attacks every time a friend or relative gets knocked up (what if they use it first? eeeeeeeep). (So, current name candidates? Under lockdown.)

Plus, there are the materialistic things like THESE:

[from]

And THIS:

[from]

Another selfish reason: because I think pregnancy is the coolest thing ever. Your uterus grows to 1,000 times its size. If your whole body pulled that off, well... here are the tallest buildings in the world:

Here is you x1,000 next to those buildings:

LARGE & IN CHARGE, BABY.   L A R G E   &   I N   C H A R G E  .

And another terrible reason for getting knocked up? Because I am DYYYYING to have a puppy right now. And our apartment doesn't allow puppies, but it does allow babies. BAD April. Baby does not equal surrogate puppy.

Any more posts like these and the Child Services people are going to be waiting in the delivery room to seize our newborns.

Sure, I want kids someday. Sure, I've loved my future offspring ever since I realized I could have offspring. Sure, I've loved them even more since I met the guy who would be contributing half their chromosomes and raising them with me.

But I don't want them right now. (Okay, maybe a tiny bit. Like a 5.5-out-of-10 amount of Want.)
(But that's all.)
(& I hope they get his hair.)

Computer Armageddon : (

I think it's safe to say I'm having some slight technical difficulties.

Friday night, as "the Bible guranteed it," my four-year-old MacBook laptop was raptured. Literally, its little light went out. Poor old 'Pooter (short for Compooter).

Luckily, I had just bought a new iMac (desktop), and kept right on computin'.

Well, apparently both my computers are saints-- because the iMac screen just died too. I wish I were making this up. (The desktop's name was 'Pootation Station, just so you all can properly grieve/rejoice for its saved little soul.)


So until I can get this figured out, I will miss writing here, & miss commenting on your blogs too!

I guess I should go look up some porn or online poker with my phone (what I'm writing with now-- not fun) before the Almighty Motherboard in the Sky deems it worthy of salvation as well.